The Darker Path
by His Lil' Half-Blood Princess
Summary: Severus Snape never planned on being a Death Eater, but when his mother dies, his father abuses, and his best friend gives up on him, it seems like the only path left. REPOST! UP FOR ADOPTION.
1. Alone

**THE DARKER PATH**

_Welcome back everyone! Here we go again, the new and improved, The Darker Path! I read this story over and realized that it had too many errors. So now, guess what? I'm rewriting it! The story's back and it will be finished sometime in December, January, or February. So get ready! _

_I have some things to say before I begin:_

_**WARNING! **_

_This is a DARK fic, filled with angst, torture, and other things. There will be scenes of blood, scenes of GRAPHIC torture, and much pain. There WILL be foul language in this story. There will be drinking, murder, kidnapping, and bunches of other things. This story is rated PG-13 in the movie world and T (Nearly an M) in the fanfic world. There may even be a scene of implied slash between Severus Snape and Lord Voldemort (VERY slight). So if you don't like this, turn back NOW! _

_However, if you can handle it, this will be a good story, hopefully I can jerk perhaps a tear or two, and put you on the edge of your seats!_

_Next thing is my review "policy". I take flames. I take insults. I take critique. I take questions. I take predictions. I take pleas. I take comments. Send me anything, and I will accept it. I do my best to reply back. I aim to get five reviews per chapter. Roughly. So if you want the next chapter up sooner than later, you should review. Every review COUNTS! _

_And of course, my dedications. I dedicate to everyone I can think of. This story, however, I will dedicate the chapter I have written to the person who has inspired me the most to write it. _

_Are you ready for it?_

_ENJOY!_

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He stood in the doorway of the bedroom again. He couldn't help it. He couldn't help staring into the room and having his heart broken over and over again. He couldn't helped inhaling her scent yet again. He couldn't help looking into her sanctuary and remembering how many times she had sought refuge in it. He remembered everything . Every time she laughed. Every time she cried. Every time she told him that it was going to be all right...

But it was never all right.

He had been small and helpless. Scared in a cold and dark world. And she wanted to reassure him. His life was always insecure and she had to secure it as much as possible. She did her part. She was wonderful.

He breathed in her scent again. It still lingered in the air. It was sweet, a vanilla scent. Gentle and light, yet delicious and elegant. It had matured along with her because he remembered her always smelling like this. Had she worn a perfume? Or was she so perfect, beautiful, and wonderful that she had been born with a natural glitter over her?

He stepped into the room. It had not been touched. It was exactly the way it had been since she had last been there. The bed was made. The adjacent bathroom was clean. The dresser top was organized. He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. He looked at the photographs on the dresser top.

There were quite a few of them. One of her as a child- it had to be her. The picture was of a small girl with big blue eyes, laughing and running around a large front yard. There was a mansion in the background and the girl had on a pretty dress. It was definitely her. There was one of her as a teenager, then one of her in a wedding dress.

How dare she keep that one.

Then there were pictures of him. As a baby. A toddler. A young child. A teenager.

She was in some of them with him. He wondered who could have taken them if she was there...

He put the small card that the service had given him, all done neatly and printed, on top of dresser. He leaned it against a picture of her carrying him as a baby.

_Eileen Prince_

_October 3rd, 1934- June 13 1976_

Why did she have to die? Why did she have to leave him alone?

He crossed his legs- Indian style- and put a fist under his chin. He sighed. He remembered her so vividly. He thought of her every day. Every second. Every molecule of time there was, he was thinking of her.

He remembered when his father would get drunk, how she would take him into this room and lock the door. And she would tell him to sit on the bed. She would go on doing her thing. She'd take a shower. She'd do her hair. She'd read. But every time, she would talk to him. About everything. About anything.

She told her stories. She could tell the best stories. She told her stories about when she was a child and when she lived in that huge Mansion. She had everything she wanted. She had people to play with. She had everything.

She never fancied telling him those stories, since he had none of those things. Because she married a Muggle, she had been disinheirited. So they had nothing. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know what it was like.

He remembered when there had been a thunder storm. He couldn't have been more than four years old. But his father had ran out and gotten himself wasted. He returned when the storm was at its high point. And again, his mother took him to her bedroom and they sat on her bed. It was late. He had been scared. And the whole night, until he had fallen asleep, she had been there. She cradled him in her arms. She hushed him when he whimpered. She told him it was going to be okay.

But it never was.

Then, it seemed as though her promise would be fulfilled but now it was impossible. Then, he had Hogwarts as his hope. But hope turned out to be hell, with more tormentors and only one comforter. Then she left, merely days before his mother had. Now he was alone with his hell-makers and no hope.

And worst of all, his father would not let him return to Hogwarts.

He liked Hogwarts. It was his home. The Marauders made his experience difficult, but it was wonderful their too. It was fun and high-spirited. And he loved the classes. He loved magic.

But now his father forbade him to go.

But he had to go. He had no money, but he would find a way.

He put two fingers against the photograph of his mother in her wedding dress. He put them against her cheek and sighed. "I love you, Mum," he whispered. "And I won't let you down. I won't let him break me. You wouldn't want it. I'll find a way out." He sighed quietly to himself and let the teardrop slide down his cheek.

Why did she have to go?


	2. Broke

**Chapter 2: Broke**

_Ok, I realized something when I reposted Chapter 1 yesterday: When you repost, it doesn't show up on alerts or on Just In. So people, go back to chapter 1 and start from there. This is chapter 2. Stuff has happened before. GO BACK!_

_Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to this review I got about Lucius Malfoy. Don't remember the reviewer's name, but I'll find out!_

_Review, review, review!_

_And go back to Chapter 1 (if you have not read it. IT IS NOT THE CONSTRUCTION NOTE, IT IS A REAL CHAPTER ABOUT SEVERUS SNAPE!)_

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The door to the Leaky Cauldron opened and Tom, the bartender, sighed. What drunk was going to come waddling into his pub at this hour? It was midnight, nearly closing time, and he and his barmaid had been wiping down tables and counters. Now some drunk would come it and disturb them, perhaps even making more of a mess. Today has been stressful enough.

But in came, not a drunk, but a boy. A skinny, pale, teenage boy. He looked exhausted, scared, and terrible hungry. He had a trunk in his left hand and an envelope in his right. Tom looked up at him and dropped his cleaning rag. He slowly walked past the table he had been cleaning.

"How can I help you, young man?"

The boy looked up at him. "I'm sorry to, uh... have come on such short-notice, but, you wouldn't happen to have a room, would you?"

"A room?" Tom looked him over again. His clothes were too big and old and thin. His trunk even had a patch or two on it. He looked desperate. Was he poor? Was he in poverty? Had he been abandoned? Or did he run away?

"Yes," the boy said, a tinge more confidence in his words now. "I need a room. Just for three days."

"I have one room," said Tom. "But it's terribly small and doesn't even have a window. You wouldn't want it, boy."

"I do. I need a room. Any room. I'll take it if you can give it to me."

Tom sighed. "Why are you here, boy? Surely you're still under-age. What brings you here? Where are your parents?"

"I... I..." There was a pause. Then, he said, "My parents are going away and I just need somewhere to stay before Hogwarts."

Tom gave a sly smile. "Really? And why can you not stay at home?"

"They're... they're renovating. Yes, the house is a mess and I can't stay there."

"So why do you come, all wind-swept and desperate for a room in the middle of the night, when you're parents could have easily reserved a good room for you and you could have arrived during daylight hours?" _He won't be able to make up a smart ass lie for this one! _Tom thought to himself. The boy sighed, then spoke.

"Because I was supposed to go to the Hog's Head, except they ended up being full, since my parents didn't make a reservation. So I came here."

"And you couldn't have gone to stay with a family member or a-?"

"Please," the boy begged. "Just give me a room. I'm so tired... and I'm willing to beg. I need somewhere- anywhere- to stay. Please."

Tom sighed. The kid was begging. He looked like as though he could just pass out any minute now. He needed to rest, that much was obvious. He didn't need an interrogation. Not now, anyway. "Fine. But tomorrow, we have a talk. And you will tell the truth." Tom cleared his throat. "That'll be twelve galleons for the next three days." The boy handed him the envelope, which Tom realized after counting, contained eleven. Tom tutted. "Ah, well, I'll let you go this time. Go on up, to the top floor, all the way down the corridor, last door to the left. The boy nodded, gave a thank you, and started upstairs.

"Wait," said Tom, and the young man stopped. "What's your name?"

The boy looked back at him and said, "Snape. Severus Snape."

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He sat up in bed, feeling the darkness of his room surround him. Where was he?

The Leaky Cauldron.

Why was he here?

He ran away.

How did he do it?

He packed his things, stole some money from his father, and left. He went to the money exchange and came here.

What time was it?

He had no clue. It could be four in the morning. There was no window, so there was no sunlight. It was probably around seven. He should get up and go out somewhere, so he could avoid Tom and his questions.

Because he couldn't give honest answers.

He looked himself over. He was wearing dirty jeans and a baggy black T-shirt. He needed something over them. He rummaged through his bag and found a black cloak. Thin and a bit long, but it would have to do. He slipped it on and crept out of his room. He went to the bathroom down the hall and washed his face. He went back into the hall and looked out the window. Sunshine, streaming in generously. He'd have to find someway to sneak out of the pub without Tom seeing him. Making sure he had his wand, he crept downstairs.

The pub was very much open, being that it was stuffed with people. Tom was chatting away with a very charming woman, so he wouldn't notice the skinny boy who had showed up last night sneaking away. He covered his face, and rushed out the back door.

To Diagon Alley.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed. He was broke. He had no where to go. He couldn't go to Hogwarts without his things. Well... he could, but he'd have to borrow everything and his robes were already getting small. He needed new ones.

Why did _everything _depend on money?

He sat down on a chair in front of an ice cream shop that was just opening. The town clock read twelve and Severus was shocked. Had he slept twelve hours? Had he been that stressed? He put his face in his hands. Things were so difficult.

"Are you going to order?" a voice came and Severus looked up. The shop owner was standing above him, holding a notebook in hand. Severus shook his head.

"I can't," he apologized. "I don't have any money with me. "

"Yes, you do," came another voice. Severus turned around to see Lucius Malfoy, striding down the street towards him. Severus smiled meekly. Lucius was too generous.

"Hello, Lucius," Severus said. Lucius sat down across from him and nodded, then looked at the owner.

"One chocolate and one raspberry," he said, putting down the three galleons. The owner wrote it down and took the money. He walked away. Lucius looked at his friend.

"Well, Severus, fancy seeing you here. What are you doing in Diagon Alley?"

"I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron," Severus explained. Unlike strangers, like Tom, Severus could tell Lucius about what was going on. He trusted him. "I needed somewhere to go before I go to Hogwarts."

"Why not stay at home instead of paying money for a crappy room at a pub?" Lucius asked. Severus smiled.

"Because my father does not want me going to Hogwarts. So I ran away and I needed somewhere to stay."

"You could have come to stay with me at the Manor," Lucius said, reasonably.

"I didn't want to intrude," Severus said. Indeed, going to Malfoy Manor crossed his mind many a time, but he did not want to burst in uninvited. It was terribly rude and he knew he would not be wanted by Lucius's family.

"It would not have been intruding," Lucius assured. "But anyway, you have no money? Have you not bought your school things yet?"

"No, I haven't," Severus said. "I don't have any money. I had eleven galleons and I used that to pay for my stay at the Leaky Cauldron."

"No money..." Lucius faded off. He reached into his robes and pulled out a tiny key. "Take out 3,000 galleons. That should be sufficient. You need new robes and then the rest of your things, plus extra..."

"Lucius, no!" Severus snapped. "I can't take money from you! I could never pay it back!"

"There are other ways to make repayment in, Severus. But, I do not need it anyway. Take it. I insist."

"No, Lucius, I can't."

Lucius slammed the key onto the table. "Take it! It's yours now."

Severus, hesitantly, took the key off of the table. "I don't know what to say..."

"Thank you is enough," Lucius said with a smile.

Severus smiled back. "All right then. Thank you."

"You're welcome." The ice cream arrived and they talked small talk as they ate. When they were done, Lucius stood up and said, "Well, Severus, it's been wonderful, but I have some business to attend to. I shall write to you while you are at Hogwarts."

Severus nodded. "Thank you, Lucius," he said again. The Malfoy said nothing as he set off down the road.

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_But HOW will Severus pay him back? NOT WITH MONEY! :)_


	3. Lonely

**Chapter 3: Lonely**

_Well, I'm posting BUNCHES of stuff up today, so I hope that pleases all. I've been under so much stress and just too busy to even think about writing. Now, I have a precious hour to write. I'm glad of that._

_I can't wait for Thanksgiving! I am thankful for mysteryssister for inspiring me for this one! Just for being there! What are YOU thankful for?_

_November 2nd is voting day in the United States. The polls open and close on the same day. However, His Lil' Half-Blood Princess polls go for as long as I want! The Suicide Poll will be closing on Black Friday aka the day after Thanksgiving aka November 26. Last time I checked, we had 13 people for Britain, and 1 person for America. Do you want Britain to win? Then vote! Do you want America to win? Then SERIOUSLY vote!_

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"So guess what, Snape?" Avery whispered, his voice low and calm.

"What?" Severus asked absentmindedly. He was bored with this conversation.

"We got something over the summer," Mulciber said.

"Ah," Severus said, with a nod. He couldn't care less about what they got. Mulciber and Avery spent the entire summer together every year and always came back bragging about what they did, what they got, and who they met. At first, it made him envious. Why couldn't he spend the entire summer with his friends and go to mansions and beaches and Quidditch matches? And why couldn't he come back with bags worth of souveniers? It was unfair.

When it was Easter holiday during his first year, he was back home at Spinner's End. Mulciber and Avery had told them about their summer plans. They had mentioned a three week vacation to Avery's summer home and had invited their friend to come. When he had brought it up with his mother, she didn't seem to think their summer agenda was as amazing as he had.

"No... no, I don't think so..." she had said, fading out. Her son gaped at him.

"But _Mum!" _he had whined. "They're just going away to Avery's summer home for a few weeks! I won't be away that long!"

"You wouldn't understand, love," she said. "Things are... well, different now. I don't think it'd be wise for you to go."

"You don't get it!"

"I do 'get it' and I get it enough. You're not going. End of story."

He didn't bother bringing it up again because he knew she'd say no. So year after year, he'd endure listening to them bragging about their fun. And year after year, it became easier to ignore.

He still never understood why his mother didn't like Avery and Mulciber.

"It's a secret, so you better not go around blabbing it!" Avery snapped. Severus looked at him with an eyebrow raised. Odd. They usually wanted _everyone _to know about things like this. Or perhaps... this was different?

"I won't," Severus promised. The other boys glanced at each other, then back at Snape.

Avery rolled back his left sleeve. Mulciber did the same.

"What the hell?" Severus whispered briskly. "Put those _away! _Are you freakin' serious? We're in the Great Hall! What would Dumbledore do if he saw those?"

The boys rolled their sleeves down. "We got them in June," Mulciber said. "You know, sixteen is the youngest he'll take. You ever think of joining?"

Severus's eyes widened. "J-j-joining?"

"Yeah."

He swallowed. "Um... not really. I don't think he'd have much interest in me anyway. I'm just a half-blood, you know. He wouldn't care at all."

"Really?" Avery said, raising a brow himself. "I doubt that. It seems Lucius Malfoy speaks very highly of you to him and he seems curious about you. Maybe you could write Lucius and see if you can meet with him, just to talk and to decide."

"I don't know if I..." Severus paused. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Lily was laughing with Potter.

She didn't care about him anymore.

He looked at the High Table. The teachers were gossiping amongst themselves.

They didn't really care if he lived or died.

His eyes wandered up to the starry ceiling above. What would his mother think...?

His mother wasn't here anymore.

He was alone.

"I don't know. Yet. But I will think about it." He looked down and started playing with his food, feeling confused and lonely.

A third year Hufflepuff came up to them. "What d'you want, fatty?" Mulciber snapped at the girl, who immediately burst into tears. She threw a piece of paper and Snape and ran off, crying. Mulciber and Avery started laughing hysterically. Snape, however, picked up the paper and unfolded it:

_Severus,_

_ I would like to speak with you in my office. Tonight. Ten o'clock. I think we have some memories to discuss. The password is lemon drops._

_ - Albus Dumbledore_

Severus folded up the note and stowed it in his robes, looking back up at the ceiling and wondering where his mother might be...

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_I need to write more Snape's mom stuff..._


	4. Orphan

_If you read the first version of The Darker Path, then you have read a version of this chapter. I would read it again. Everyone else, dig in! It seems that not only is Lord Voldemort interested in our favorite Slytherin!_

_Also, my collaboration account with SeverusSnape19, __**GoldandSilverUnite, **__is up and running! We DO have a story up and please go and read it! It's called __**Glass **__and it is wonderful! _

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Minerva took another sip of gillywater. "Let's hope this is a good year," she said.

Dumbledore poured himself a glass, putting the bottle back down on his desk. "Let's start a bit smaller, Minerva. A good year? Never. Perhaps, a good term."

"Smaller, Albus," she said, taking another sip. "A good month."

"A good-" He drained his glass. "-week."

"A good day tomorrow!" said Minerva. They laughed. "Ugh, it's been so tiring, these past few weeks. Getting ready for the students. Now they're here again." She emptied her glass and poured herself more. "I can't wait for Christmas."

"Now, Minerva, we haven't even started teaching yet!" said Dumbledore, finishing his third glass, making a fourth.

_"We?" _said Minerva. "You haven't taught for years!"

"Very well, _you, _forgive me, I've just had-" He cleaned his fourth drink. "-four glasses of very strong, yet delicate, drink."

"That," said Minerva, taking the bottle off the desk, standing up, and putting it on a shelf. "Is an oxymoron if I ever heard one."

"Again, I have just been drinking," he said. He opened a container on his desk and took out a Licorice Wand. He began to chew it.

"Albus, you're eating _those _things at ten o'clock at night?" asked Minerva.

"Why, yes I am. I don't see the difference between have alcoholic drinks and candy at this hour. Both can make you feel poorly if too much is eaten, I find."

"But you're 130!"

He bit off another piece, chewed and swallowed. "I know I am. Chocolate Frog?"

She shuddered. "It's a wonder you're still alive, all the cholesterol and high blood pressure _you _must have."

"Many things are a wonder, Minerva," he said cheerfully. "Like how we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher every year."

"But, isn't a wonder, a good thing?"

"I wonder about bad things all the time," he said. "I have some Every Flavor Beans from last Christmas that Fillius gave me. Would like a handful?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "No thank you." she said. "I'm going back to my office to finish writing the Gryffindor schedules."

"Very well," he said. "Good night, Minerva."

"Good night, Albus," she said, slipping out of the room.

Dumbledore had two more Licorice Wands. When he was done, he began to do some work. After a few minutes, there was a soft, almost hesitant, knock on his door.

He knew who it was.

"Enter," he said, not looking up. The door opened and Dumbledore looked up. Severus Snape had entered the room.

"Ah, Severus, I'm glad to see you. Please, sit down."

Snape seemed a bit wary of the situation. He didn't know why Dumbledore had called him in. This was unexpected.

Snape slid into the chair opposite of Dumbledore, the desk between them. He looked at the desk, covered with many contraptions and papers and jars. He tried to avoid the gaze of the older man in front of him.

"Licorice Wand? Chocolate Frog? Pumpkin Pasties?" he asked.

"No, sir, I couldn't," he said quietly.

"I insist!" said Dumbledore, placing one of each candy on the desk. Snape looked at them, then took the smallest Licorice Wand he could find.

" . . . Thank you, sir," he said. He began to nibble his candy. He hadn't had any candy in _such _a long time. He never had any money for the candy on the train.

"So, Severus, did you find your O.W.L. marks to be satisfactory?"

"Yes, sir," he said, softly. He hated it when people wouldn't get straight to the point. Burning around the bush made him feel tense.

"Did your father congratulate you at all?" Dumbledore asked. Snape looked away.

"My father doesn't exactly . . . appreciate . . . many things. He wouldn't have cared much, so I didn't bother to show him . . . Sir." he added.

"That is unfortunate," said Dumbledore. Then he lowered his voice. "I'm extremely sorry about your mother, Severus."

"You don't have to be sorry, Professor," said Snape, still avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. He hated talking about his mother. "She died months ago already. It's over. She's gone now . . ."

There was a silence. "Would you mind explaining to me . . . how it happened? You were there, correct?" Dumbledore said, now whispering. Snape nodded and looked at his shaking hands. This was torture for him. Recalling exactly how his mother had died.

"Well," Snape started, his voice trembling. "She was weak. She had influenza in December. The Healer who saw her said it was so bad, she could've died then. She hadn't made a full recovery, physically. It was the beginning of summer holiday. And he . . ." His voice cracked. He couldn't go on. He swallowed and tried again. "He was upset. He was drunk, but he wanted to drink more. But there wasn't anymore left. So he went to get his wallet, to go buy more. But he didn't have anymore money left. So he started throwing things, all around the house, trashing every single room. Well, when he got to my room, he started yelling at me. He said that I probably stole his money to pay for Hogwarts and I told him I didn't."

"Did you?" asked Dumbledore, engaged in the story.

"No, sir, I didn't." _Not then, _Severus thought. "He didn't believe me, so he . . . he . . ." He swallowed again. "He started h-h-hitting me and I tried to make him stop, I really tried. But he wouldn't. Then my mother came in and she asked my father what happened." He paused again. "He . . . he told her I stole from his wallet. I told her I didn't, that I would never do that. But then my father slapped me and told me to shut up. So I did. And then she asked him what he needed the money for and that she might have some for him. He told her he wanted three bottles of vodka. She said that she'd go see how much money she had." Snape couldn't go on. He swallowed again, he tried to continue his tale, but he just couldn't. "I'm sorry, Professor, I can't tell it anymore."

"You don't need to, my dear boy," said Dumbledore. "But I still want to hear how the story ends."

"It isn't a happy ending, Headmaster." said Snape.

"I know it isn't. If you would grant me permission, I could extract the memory and watch it in my Pensieve. You would be invited to watch it with me, but not obliged."

"You . . . you have a Pensieve?" Dumbledore nodded. "Those are . . . rare."

"Well, being me does have its advantages, Severus," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Now, do I have your permission to watch the memory?"

"I . . . Yes, sir." Dumbledore walked around his desk and put his wand to Severus's head. He slowly drew his wand away, taking with him a stream of silver. He walked over to the Pensieve and put the silver stream into the water and began to stir it with his wand.

"Professor?" Severus asked. "Is this why you wanted me to come tonight? To know how my mother died?"

"One of the reasons. After I see this memory, I will explain more." Dumbledore withdrew his wand and stowed it back in his robes. "Now, would you like to come with me? To watch the memory?" Severus was hesitant and took too long to answer. "You don't have to. I will go alone."

"No, I'll come, sir," said Severus. He stood up and walked over to the Pensieve. He looked into the silvery depths.

"Have you ever used a Pensieve?"

"I've only read about them, sir."

"Well, using one is relatively easy. All one must do is plunge into the water and he will be able to watch the memory as if he were there. Let me demonstrate." Severus stepped back and watched Dumbledore dive gently into the Pensieve. There was no splash of water and Dumbledore actually fit. Snape decided to follow. He dove into the water and before he knew it, he was spinning into what seemed to be streams of color. He was feeling sick when he fell with a thud.

"Yes, it does take some time to getting used to," said Dumbledore. "Once you've mastered landing softly, it becomes quite easy."

Snape looked around the room. It was the sitting room at Spinner's End.

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_See how similar it was to the original version? I just needed to fix it up a bit. Now! The memory! I have lots to do in the real world and plenty to do here. Holiday one-shots, Romeo & Juliet, Glass, The Unbreakable Curse, and soon enough, Lily's Battle! Here are three things you can do (and please do them!) to motivate me to post the memory thing (and to just be nice!). One: Read and review for Glass. It's going to be so awesome! Two: Vote on the Suicide poll. The poll closes on Black Friday (November 26). Three: Review for Lily's Lover. The more reviews I get, the more likely the next installment will be up before 2011! _


	5. UP FOR ADOPTION

This story is up for adoption.

If you'd like it, PM me and I'll send everything you need to you.

Thanks


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